


the ache is strong

by Sohvana



Series: broken into better shape [4]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bodhi Rook Needs a Hug, Companion Piece, Crying, Feels, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Lack of Communication, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, cast some light 'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 16:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13791501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sohvana/pseuds/Sohvana
Summary: “I wanted to catch you, before you go.”Bodhi's leaving for a mission in the morning. Luke shows up at his door.





	the ache is strong

Bodhi tells himself the knock on the door is a surprise. Instead of vainly chasing sleep, he’s been pacing the small space of his quarters, pondering details of the mission he’ll leave for in the morning. He palms the pad.

Luke pivots around the corner, leaning into the doorway. He’s already half over the threshold as he asks, “Mind if I come in?”

The words are light, easy, but Bodhi’s breath catches anyway. Luke’s holding his chin low, peering up from between strands of sandy hair threatening to cover his eyes. Wildly, Bodhi wonders when Luke last visited the surgeons for a trim, whether he’d been too busy with recent ops, or just careless, or if -

“Not at all,” he manages, shoving the increasingly distracting thoughts aside. The effort freezes him just long enough that he forgets to step out of the way.

Luke sidles past him, close enough that even though their bodies aren’t touching, he can almost feel the curve of Luke’s hip, the press of his thigh. Bodhi’s skin prickles, a trail of goosebumps rising over his arms as if to close the distance. He folds his arms over his chest, opens his mouth to say something, anything simple, but the intake of breath brings Luke’s scent with it, barreling him over before his tongue can even move.

He’s still not sure where it comes from - whether Luke spends his precious credits on soap from home, or somehow the laundry in his quadrant goes different, or maybe that smell is just... _ him _ . Regardless, it carries Bodhi back to the warmth of Luke’s bed and the nearness of his body, and as he crosses the room and the scent fades, Bodhi’s leaning forward onto his toes to chase the connection.

Luke turns to face him. “I wanted to catch you, before you go.”

“Right.” Bodhi says, more stiffly than he means. He presses his eyes shut, struggling to anchor his thoughts back together.

Luke shifts his weight uneasily, glances toward the open door.

Bodhi coughs, swallows hard, reaches out to palm it closed. He takes the three steps to the bed, sinks down to sit squarely at the foot. 

“Eight day run, isn’t it, there and back?” Luke’s voice is quiet.

The softness catches him off guard, but at least the question’s easy. “Yeah, assuming everything goes well on the other end.” 

He nods, looks away.

Bodhi can’t shake the feeling they’re talking about something else entirely. Luke looks as small as he feels himself. He realizes this is the longest mission he’s been assigned since the night they played sabacc, and suddenly something aches. It’s not as though they’ve spent every night together - they’ve each had short stints away, and even when they’re both on base, they’re dodging Wedge and Seda, hovering at each other’s doors before giving in, parting at steadily later hours, pretending they don’t see the others’ glances or hear their fellows murmuring.

“Can I stay?”

The words are so faint Bodhi doesn’t trust his ears. He looks across at Luke with new wonder, meets his eyes, sees the shy pleading in them. His throat closes around his reply, so he just nods, once, twice, three times, and then he’s shaking. Luke wants to stay. 

Just weeks ago Bodhi would’ve tripped over calling him a friend, and now they’re - what are they? How many times has he desperately wished someone would stay? How many times has he folded into himself and disappeared before they could? 

The tremors in his limbs come unwanted but not unfamiliar. Before he defected, before Saw and the bor gullet, he’d known a thing or two about hiding his emotions. It hadn’t been optional in his old line of work. He could hold his horror low in his gut, tuck his grief between his ribs. If he kept the feelings separate, packed them down small and tight, the rare tears would come out silently and at night, when no one could see. Lately though, he’s gotten used to things cresting over the surface.

He still doesn’t feel ready to let Luke see it. He squeezes his eyes shut, hoping to keep the tears back, but the tightness in his chest already has him gasping. 

He’s felt alone among the Rebels so often. He’s the pilot, but also the defector, the traitor, the unsteady, the untouchable. With each passing day he gains more of their trust, and they treat him with more kindness. He doesn’t deserve it.

Luke kneels down on the floor in front of him.

Bodhi looks across at his tanned face and into those bright blue eyes. He doesn’t dare hope that the nights they’ve spent together mean half as much to Luke as they do to him. He doesn’t deserve him, either.

Luke reaches out with both hands, as if in comfort. 

Bodh flinches. “Sorry,” he says, ashamed he can’t handle being touched at times like this. “Ever since -” he begins, sniffling back the snot gathering in his nose. He draws a shaky breath in through his mouth.

“You don’t have to explain.” 

Bodhi remembers the early morning about a week back, when he woke shattered from nightmares and Luke hadn’t asked any questions. He’d just given him space, stayed awake with him till the flashbacks eased and he could sleep again.

He wants to share, figures it would be worth it, expects Luke would understand. He doesn’t have the strength to protest tonight, though. He drops his face into his hands, lets his shoulders shake with sobs that come out steadily, one by one.

Eventually, Luke pulls the covers back and Bodhi lets himself be guided down under them. His body heat seeps away into the fabric, the smooth coolness giving him something to focus on. 

Luke moves to let go of the blanket. Bodhi catches his hand, clutches it against his chest. 

He blinks up at Luke, tears still streaming down his cheeks.  _ Stay _ , he thinks.  _ Please. _ Aloud he says, “You don’t have to leave.” 

Luke’s lips part, his eyes flicking between the door and the floor. “I thought...” His fingers curl around Bodhi’s, despite the uncertainty making his voice waver. “I thought you didn’t want - ”

“Luke,” Bodhi gasps out his name, single syllable wrapped tight around silent plea. _Don’t make me say it._ _I don’t know that I can._

His weight settles gingerly on the edge of the bed. “Are you sure?” Luke poses the question like any response is equally welcome.

Bodhi squeezes the tears out of his eyes, sits up, wipes his free hand across the dampness on his face. He swallows to steady his voice, but when he opens his mouth, only a strangled sound comes out. So he presses their hands tight together over his heart, reaches with the other arm. His hand starts at Luke’s shoulder, skims over his collarbone, settles down behind his neck. 

Luke lets Bodhi pull him in, until their foreheads connect. He traces Bodhi’s jawline tenderly with a forefinger.

Bodhi shudders. He closes his eyes, breathes Luke in again, roots down through the points where their bodies touch. 

This time the question is a whisper. “Are you sure?” 

Luke's lips only part a fraction, but Bodhi feels the words against his skin as much as hears them aloud. He starts to nod and their faces slide sideways. His mouth is so close, and suddenly this answer is a thousand times easier. 

Bodhi goes for the kiss, eagerness and desperation mingled.  _ Maybe now he’ll understand how I…  _ He presses closer to Luke instead of finishing the thought.

Luke stays relaxed, holds perfectly still as Bodhi advances. 

He can’t breathe through his nose, has to pull back for air. The hand over his heart pulls away, and Bodhi wonders if this is too much, if  _ he’s _ too much.

Luke finds his eyes. 

Bodhi tries to be brave, but can’t meet his gaze for long. He’s so startlingly, achingly beautiful. The fingertips at Bodhi’s cheek spread wide, drawing him back in.

A slow smile spreads over Luke’s features. He cups Bodhi’s face with both hands. “Okay,” he says softly. “Okay then.”

Bodhi doesn’t have time to wonder what he means.

Luke trails kisses over his cheekbone, along his jawline. 

Bodhi tilts his chin to chase Luke’s mouth.

He turns his head, so Bodhi’s lips meet his neck instead. Arching, he rumbles approval somewhere deep in his chest. Luke’s hand slides up and over Bodhi’s shoulder, pulls his whole body close against his own. He shifts, easing Bodhi’s weight back, leaning against him, holding them both up over the bed.

Gravity claws at Bodhi, tries to draw him down and away. He squirms, uncertain, but the arm supporting him is solid, strong. 

Luke studies his face.

This time he looks right back, marveling that they’ve made it here. He trusts him, wants to earn his trust in return. His nervous fidgeting stills. 

Luke’s chest expands with a long breath, full of relief and anticipation.

The joy still settling in Bodhi’s heart shines out through Luke’s eyes. He's smiling now, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the lyrics of "Thick as Thieves" by Katie Herzig.


End file.
